


With the glow of private exploration

by elliceluella



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: First Time Roleplaying, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Sex, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 16:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliceluella/pseuds/elliceluella
Summary: "If you wanted, we could uh- pretend, that we were… other people?”“Matthew Murdock,” Foggy gasps. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” His voice is playful and teasing, but Matt can tell he’s interested too, knows it from the uptick in Foggy’s heart rate, the new warmth that spreads from his face to between his thighs.





	With the glow of private exploration

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'it's nice to see you again' square on my DD Bingo card~

He doesn’t do galleries for obvious reasons, but there’s something about the chic, cavernous space of this one— and the fact that it has a _bar_ — that has him making an exception. The place is hardly empty but it doesn’t feel stifling the way spaces in the city normally do, with its high, curved ceilings and minimal lighting, judging by the low hum of lightbulbs. The swelling sounds of a cello stream softly from speakers, just loud enough to be heard over pockets of hushed, polite conversations.

Everyone else might be here for the art but Matt’s here for the experience of the space and, it seems, the alcohol. He makes a beeline for the bar and slides into a seat, next to a man who smells...just like how this place feels to Matt— calm, but intriguing. No cloying cologne, no hair product, no aggressive laundry detergent.

Matt gives a polite smile and orders a Macallan neat after the man acknowledges his presence with a quiet “Hmm” and doesn’t say anything else.

“Are you here for something in particular or just taking a look around?” Matt asks once he takes a sip of his drink, embracing the fire that slides down his throat. It makes his voice deeper. He runs his tongue along his lower lip and smiles, takes in the quiet, surprised inhale of the stranger. This whole evening has been an exercise in exceptions: walking into galleries, talking to strangers just for the heck of it, flirting with intention.

“I’d say just taking a look around, but now my gut’s telling me maybe it was the former,” the man replies, his voice is just as intriguing as his scent. Matt finds himself leaning forward. “Just didn’t know what I was looking for.”

Bingo. Matt grins wide.

“I’m Michael,” Matt says, and holds his hand out for a handshake. The anticipation of touching him and finally knowing what he feels like, even if it’s just his hand, is almost too much.

“Philip,” comes the reply, and Matt waits as Philip reaches forward. Philip’s grip is assuring and he feels warm and plush, like a luxury Matt wants to keep forever. His fingers twitch when he lets go.

“This is probably gonna sound like a cliche,” Matt says, letting out a small laugh and ducking his head. “But I’ve never done this before.”

Philip hums in consideration. “I don’t doubt that,” he says. They’ve only started talking but it feels intimate already, Matt picking out the way Philip’s grin wraps itself around his voice with ease. “I’m guessing you’re usually on the receiving end of people falling over themselves trying to get your attention?” The grin in his voice turns into something teasing now.

Matt sputters in surprise and laughs out loud. “Me?”

“Come on. Definitely sure I’m not the first person to tell you that you’re extremely...charming on the eyes.”

Matt ducks his head. “It’s been known to happen, yeah.”

“So,” Philip says, taking another sip from his drink. “What about you? Here for something in particular?”

“Yes, actually. An experience.”

Philip makes a curious sound.

“I once heard that experiencing art through someone else’s eyes could be incredibly...intimate,” he says, sliding his hand across and brushing his knuckles against Philip’s, smirking at the sudden rise in his temperature. “I was hoping to find that out for myself.”

“That does sound...intriguing,” Philip admits. He hasn’t moved his hand.

*

“Wait, wait,” Foggy asks, laughing. “She said that? Vanessa Marianna actually _said_ _that_?”

“And then she said it was a good line and I should use it,” Matt says, smiling and shrugging.

“And now you’re actually curious,” Foggy says slowly, putting his fork down. Matt's face heats under the scrutiny. He's also a little hard. “ _Huh_.”

Matt squirms. “I don’t know,” he says. “I mean, it could be fun, and she might have a point. The gallery’s closing next week, so we could- if you wanted, we could uh- pretend, that we were… other people?”

“ _Matthew Murdock_ ,” Foggy gasps. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” His voice is playful and teasing, but Matt can tell he’s interested too, knows it from the uptick in Foggy’s heart rate, the new warmth that spreads from his face to between his thighs.

Matt grins now, smug, getting up from his seat and leaning into Foggy’s space as he collects his empty plate, lets loose a grin Foggy once labelled as _dangerous_ when Foggy gives a soft “Oh”.

“So, is that a yes?”

*

Matt tries his best to listen attentively as Philip leads him around the gallery describing textures and hues and the various passions they evoke, but it’s hard to focus when every touch and every laugh feels like a message just waiting to be decoded.

The only piece of art he’s interested in taking home is warm and beguiling and right by his side. He wants an opportunity for a private exploration, stripped down and laid bare, wants his senses to form his experience.

“Would you consider yourself a passionate man, Philip?” Matt asks, and relishes in the small huff of laughter it brings out.

“I’d like to think so, yes. And yourself?”

Matt cocks his head and lets his chin jut out just slightly so his smile is extra sharp when he answers, “I’ve been told that I am, on more than one occasion.”

Philip’s heart stutters in his chest. He pulls Matt into an empty corner that leads down to the restroom. “And what’re your thoughts about living in the moment? About giving in to impulse?” He asks, taking Matt’s hand and pressing it against his hip, prompting Matt to _feel_ as he guides his hand down his side.

Matt swallows hand and hears the triumph in Philip’s breath when he clocks the moment Matt realizes he isn’t wearing anything under those soft trousers.

“Restroom’s empty,” Matt says, low and shaky, breaking character, the want in his voice taking over. “We could-”

“So is my place,” Foggy says, and Matt loves that it’s Foggy this time, the smooth edge in his voice replaced by a tremor that betrays that same want, by a joyful urgency in his grip that lets Matt know he really, really wants him to touch and kiss him.

Matt kisses him, quick and dirty, laughing and catching him when his knees buckle. “Let’s go.”

*

“Best idea ever,” Foggy gasps when Matt’s three fingers deep inside him, moaning and gripping Matt’s shoulders tight after he twists his wrist and curls his fingers to press up against Foggy’s prostate, hard. “I feel like Michael and Philip deserve another date.”

“Gives us a chance to flesh out their characters a little more,” Matt agrees, thrusting in one more time and spreading his fingers before pulling out slowly, hitching Foggy’s legs up so they wrap around Matt’s waist.

He rocks forward and ruts against Foggy’s ass before he positions himself and presses in, groaning at the perfect tightness and heat as his head breaches past the entrance and Foggy flutters around him. Foggy’s bitten off moans and pleas for Matt to kiss him tug at his heart, they’re a command he could never turn away from. He happily complies and swallows all of Foggy’s sounds, giving himself up fully in the kiss, rocking forward inch by inch and losing himself in all the beautiful messages Foggy’s body reveals.

“Yeah.” Foggy nods, once Matt’s all the way in. “I feel like Michael could be an aspiring erotica writer on weekends with a soft spot for Vanessa Carlton, you know?” That startles a laugh out of Matt and Foggy hums, pleased, reaching up and cupping Matt’s face before pulling him down for another kiss. He tilts his head back, sighing Matt’s name when Matt licks at the hollow of his throat and presses his lips to Foggy’s pulse point, tasting him and making his mark, then another, and another.

“And Philip’s a professional body painter who just found his next human canvas.” Matt grins, sliding out and pushing back in slowly after Foggy gets used to him and gives the go ahead, picking up the pace and fucking him harder when Foggy lifts his hips and starts digging his heels into Matt’s ass.

“Who’ll also be- oh fuck, _fuck_ , don’t stop- Michael’s muse for his next story?”

“Definitely,” Matt grunts into Foggy’s skin.

He yelps when Matt swipes his tongue over a nipple, teeth just barely catching as he tugs, and the sounds he makes zings straight to Matt’s dick that he’s jerking up harder and faster into Foggy, hands bruisingly tight on his hips, nothing but harsh pants and delicious whines filling the air between them. Matt catches Foggy’s wrist, pressing a kiss that’s more teeth than lips to the thin skin there when Foggy snakes a hand down between them. He pulls out of Foggy and turns him over.

When Foggy’s on his knees, ass high and back arched prettily, Matt takes a moment to run his hands up and down Foggy’s side, kneading his ass. His throat clicks as he swallows hard, overwhelmed that he gets to have Foggy like this, that he belongs to Foggy.

“You’re beautiful,” Matt says, draping himself over Foggy and hugging him from behind, kissing every part of Foggy he can reach.

Foggy chokes on a _fuck, Matt,_ when Matt pushes back in, a string of babbled adorations and pleas as he makes it good, grinding and thrusting until Foggy’s tightening around him, shaking and spilling onto the bed with a wordless cry. Matt slows down, rolling his hips gently and holds him until his heart doesn’t sound like it’s going to pound its way out of his chest.

“I know Michael’s supposed to be Philip’s canvas,” Foggy says after Matt shifts them so they’re lying on their sides and they’ve caught their breath, “And maybe this is something residual from the gallery tonight but I want you to paint my body. Want you to come on me, Matt.”

“Foggy,” Matt breathes, kissing Foggy softly and taking his place between Foggy’s legs when he spreads them open. All it takes are a few quick strokes, Matt fucking into Foggy’s hand, thumb pressing against the head of Matt’s dick and a softly murmured “Come for me, Matt” before he’s coming over Foggy, striping his stomach and chest, a little catching on his chin. Foggy doesn’t let go; he doesn’t waste anything, working Matt through til the very end.

Matt collapses next to Foggy, panting and completely wrung out but buzzing like he’s too big for his skin, not caring that he’s partially lying on the damp patch of Foggy’s come.

He runs a finger over Foggy’s stomach and loops around his nipples, smearing his own come into Foggy’s skin, drawing patterns all over that burn bright to his senses, thrilled at the idea that Foggy’s going to smell of Matt for days. Foggy’s heart thumps away happy, content, and Matt draws a heart right over it. Foggy’s laugh floods his chest, and Matt’s own heart beats and beats until even his bones sigh at the warmth.

Eventually the buzzing fades and settles into a gentle glow that coats him from the inside out. It seeps into everything, from the smile on his face to the curl in his toes, the kind of glow people could take one look at and instantly know his heart’s no longer his to keep.

Foggy pokes at the corner of his lips. “Now there’s the look that turns my insides to mush.”

“This was all you,” Matt says, smiling wider and kissing the pad of Foggy’s finger when it glides across his lips. “But could- would you describe it?” The sudden yearning to hear it in Foggy’s voice makes it harder to breathe. Everything’s always more special when Foggy says it.

“Like you’re really happy,” Foggy says, carding fingers through Matt’s sweat-slicked hair. “Like you’re glad you’re here. With me,” he finishes, softly.

A breath rattles loose from Matt’s lungs. “That’s because it’s true,” he says, stroking a thumb over Foggy’s cheek and kissing him gently.

Judging by the way Foggy’s body responds to his touches, Matt knows he isn’t the only one glowing.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](http://ellicelluella.tumblr.com/) or [Pillowfort!](https://www.pillowfort.io/elliceluella)


End file.
